Fight Club

I would like to say thankful to all those that have ever taken time to visit my blog. This Friday 28th 2011 marks the first year of A Day in a Dog’s Life™. It has been a great 12 months. Through writing, I have met amazing people who’s words shaped my view on life and made me believe that we were all created by the same hand. I have also had the opportunity of working with great writers who to me are the most amazing and unsung heroes of our time. Thank you for giving my readers more than they bargained for. I also thank my only best and only paying advertiser who ensured that this blog stayed online. I still need your money. I thank my readers, among them my die hard fans, the most notable one being my mother. Being a great narrator herself, she taught me that words have the power to give or take life. And as much as this sounds like a grammy acceptance speech, I am humbled and honored to write for you. I’m sure my guest writers share this sentiment. Lastly I would like to thank my fiancé who happens to be my ever present english teacher. She’s always shooting down my poor grammar but for some reason, she encourages me on. Your patience with me will be rewarded eventually. For now, please keep accepting my blank checks. Happy new dog year!

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When I was little, I was bullied alot. I was small and openly scared of bigger boys. They would take my lunch almost daily. I hated it especially because I couldn’t tell anyone what I was going through. You see I was raised in a home where dad was always the hero. Up to this day, I have never seen him subdued either by a person or a situation. I believed he was born without tears. You know the kind of guy who’s remain tearless even if your sprayed his bare eyes with pepper? For a man to show weakness was the most despicable crimes of all according to his character. How then would I even begin to tell him that I was being bullied in school? This clearly was going to be my own fight. I tried on numerous occasions to stand up to the bullies but I always ended up beaten and publicly humiliated. At one point I even got beat up by a girl! Oh well, she was some sort of she-male in a skirt. How else would you describe a girl who shaved bald and had three soccer scholarships from an elite football club in Norway? All the same, it stung to be jumped by a girl. Sadly, I never won a single fight in primary school. Well I did actually win once, but by pure luck so deep down I knew that it didn’t count.

In high school, the bullying continued. Despite having my older brother as a senior in his final year when I joined, the bullying escalated to a whole new level. I still couldn’t tell him that I was being bullied. When he left, I knew there had to be a way out. I wasn’t cut out for fighting. I didn’t have the guts despite taking Tae-kwon-do most of my high school life. I also tried rugby to sort of ‘man up’. It ended with a dislocated collar on the second week of practice. I quit soon after. I went on with my martial arts sessions but this time not for self defense but for the peace it gave me inside. I steered clear of bullies and always complied with their demands. Deep down, a storm brewed. I had nothing to show for being a man. Only scars of defeat and miserable academic grades to crown it all. Most of my school mates were from well off families. In fact, the worst bullies were mostly rich kids. You know the kind that forcefully take your food and supplies just to throw them over the fence or in the toilet? The ones that tear your mattress in half just so they can find a sponge to wipe their shoes? It was painful given that I had been from a humble background. Eventually, all that gradually died down as I got older and bolder; a couple of fights later. In the fights that followed after high school, I realized that I had so much storm brewing inside me. I hated bullies with a vengeance and it landed me in some serious trouble. All along I had believed there was no other way out but fight. But gradually I realized that in such fights, no one ever gets to win in the end. Life is full of fights and that’s just how it is. You have the power to choose which fights to fight. Winning sometimes involves giving in. You can save face and live to fight another day but always know fights are like a hoola-hoop. They always come around.

A fight is just a that, a fight regardless of the context. In a fight, the parties involve are vulnerable to hurt. Wounds are inflicted that may or may not heal in the long run. The only thing that differentiates one fight from another is the intended outcome. In a physical fight, the outcomes are unpredictable and most of the time ill-intended. There are no rules per se. It’s about hurting the other person and subduing them. Those are not the type of fights that I want to talk to you about today. I want to talk about worthy fights. Some we can’t live without. Fights that express self and individuality. Fights between you and the ones you love. Fights that are fought with words and heart sometimes with the lack thereof. These hurt and sting more than physical fights even though they are not meant to. They involve a lot of sacrifice and understanding. A hell lot of painful waiting too. Surely man has to live for something if not die for it!

It’s one that a jobless man fights when he is struggling to keep his family together through tough times. It’s the fight that this man’s wife fights to stick with him come rain or shine. This fight involves a lot of forgiving and overlooking.

Do you have something or someone close to your heart worth fighting for?

My friend Serah has shed too many a tear. Since her man was diagnosed with cancer, he has become a total wreck. He drinks almost every day of the week and hardly comes home anymore. Every now and then, a friend calls Serah and tells her that Tommy has been seen with a woman in a compromising situation. Last month when they fought over his inexplicable behavior, Tommy told Serah that he’d had enough. That he didn’t find her beautiful anymore and that he never really loved her. He told her that he wanted time off from their relationship. She was hurt deeply and cried all night. She couldn’t understand why he had changed so suddenly. Tommy doesn’t take his medication anymore. He has grown weak and frail. But Serah is not about to leave this man that she loves with all her being. She knows that Tommy is just scared and sad. That he didn’t mean any of the mean things he said. He just doesn’t want to be a burden to her. Serah is a fighter. She always waits up for him every night to feed him and bathe him. He always cries when she does these things. Deep down he knows Serah is in this for the long haul. He just hopes death will take him quickly so he can free Sera, the love of his life. he would want her to move on and love again. He wishes she could find a another man who is better and healthier than him.The fact that true love is unconditional, shreds his heart for now.

All I’m saying is, if it is worth fighting for then it should definitely be worth dying for. Tonight when you go back home, shoot your man a message. Tell him that you’ll give him one more chance to try again. Call your daughter and tell her, you’re not about to let her go. That you will fight till death to bring back the love that a parent should share with their child. Tell your woman that you’re in it for the long haul [however weak this sounds]. This type of fight should be fought without ego and selfish pride. Otherwise you lose all and end up sad and miserable. For it is in our human element to fight for love. It is in our interest to protect love.

Never utter hurtful words to the ones you love; that you can never take back. Hurtful words inflict permanent wounds. An apology helps heal these wounds but is never an assurance that the scars will disappear. An elephant will remember the poacher who killed her mother 20 years before and attack him in revenge. How much more can a wounded human heart remember? Always take time and great care during confrontations with those close to you. In this fight club, you have to pursue the one you love until they give in. As I said, if it is worth fighting for, it’s worth dying for. The big question is, are you willing to walk the whole mile? If you’re not, then you should pack up and move on. This club is not for you.

Today I remember my grandfather who died fighting for respect from his two youngest sons.